The dark cone of Vesuvius began to fix itself into focus, sat upon the verdant descent into the bay of Naples. The boat knocked and creaked in the roll of the waves, it’s voyage nearing completion. Reaching harbour, anchor weighed the crew rallied to the nearest tavern to enjoy the sustenance of fresh victuals, the company of Romans, and of course the elixir of the vine. Half of their appetites sated the deckhands hurried themselves to a whore house, eyes wide at the pornographic frescos that served as a fitting menu, picking out a veritable banquet. The skipper however stayed, intent on the indigenous chatter, he had a cargo of artifacts requiring distribution, and talk of the finest collection of statues in the province piqued his interest.
Collecting together his sample case of wares he made his way along the cobbled stones until he found the villa in question. Happily not only were the windows lit, but he was also afforded admittance through to the large atrium, finding a bubbling fountain in the centre, littered around with statues almost exclusively depicting the male form. Resting a while on the bench the stillness finally broken by the appearance of a statuesque Diana of a lady, hair pinned, robes flowing. She fairly floated to his side, and having accepted a profuse litany of compliments questioned the merchant as to the purpose of his visit.
Unlatching his case he presented a small number of trinkets, suggesting that while these represented the kinds of rare minerals and quality of workmanship available the pieces that would surely be of more interest would be unloaded the following day. He urged her to accompany him to the harbour where she was would be assured of first refusal. She acquiesced that she was sure the next day would see and addition to her collection. Inspecting more closely her hand fell upon a long decorated finger of some, both dark and lustrous together, flecked all along in studs and hollows. He explained this was a flute cast from finest obsidian, offering a demonstration he lifted the object to his lips and began to play. A fine melody filled the atrium, compelling the lady to rise and dance beneath the stars.
At this point it becomes difficult to separate predator from prey. He continued to play his enchantment, and she continued to dance her enchantment which in turn led to him following her steps, until the point at which he caught up to her, and they both became an adornment of one of the columns that ringed the area. Their copulation was neither tender, nor furious, it was simply the culmination of the force that they were helpless to resist in that moment of fate. It was unbridled, all-consuming, and entirely satisfying. Holding her afterwards she murmured something he didn’t catch, when questioned she said he must show her the flute again.
What happened next was entirely out of character for the merchant, for he stripped away her disheveled clothing, bent her over the stone bench, and held her fast there with her own toga. Retrieving the flute from where it had dropped he placed it to her swollen lips, and manipulated it’s smooth decorations all over the mouth of her yoni. He toyed it in ever decreasing circles until it slid it’s way into her, then probed the darkness of her flower with it. With such ministrations time came when her body tensed and buckled and at this time he opened the cheeks of her bottom like an oyster shell, revealing the pearl that lay within. The instrument again brushed and teased, inhabited and possessed. Continuing the dereliction of his modesties he took his once more engorged member and thrust into her whereupon both cavities were laboriously entertained until he paid graciously with his seed.
With the mist of his energies cooling rapidly on his brow his sight showed him the trueness of what lay before him and he unbound her. From flushed cheeks she whispered, when pressed to repeat she bid him play again. He took the flute into his mouth and danced as he sang a light lullaby. With a final incantation he was turned quite entirely into obsidian and the lady was bequeathed the addition to her collection of a gleaming dancing faun.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/64lqgp/the_tale_of_the_merchant_and_the_collector_mf
Such eloquent, tactful use of language! Tantalizingly short, hiding so much to read within!